


Love. Blood. Kryptonite.

by ArieHolmesJr



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Prison, Badass EVERYONE, But there will be porn, Fluff and Smut, Friendship, Innocent!Steve, M/M, Not quite sure what this is, Oblivious Steve Rogers, eventual angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-10
Updated: 2014-02-10
Packaged: 2018-01-09 08:31:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1143815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArieHolmesJr/pseuds/ArieHolmesJr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>No matter how strong of a person I am, you can make me weak. You are my kryptonite, you take my powers away. Frankly, you're driving me insane.</i>
</p><p>Steve knew little about life in prison; had never thought he would end up there someday.<br/>Maybe Steve knew little about life at all.<br/>They were prisonners, but their minds and hearts were free.<br/>He didn't mean to screw things up, but then again... There is no guarantee that life is easy...</p><p> <b>Warning may eventually change, depending on whether violence will be graphic or only implied.</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	Love. Blood. Kryptonite.

**Author's Note:**

> I know I still have another work in progress and I know I should REALLY finish it, but this idea has been on my mind for quite a while now and I couldn't write anything else before I had this first chapter written down. 
> 
> I warn you now : Don't expect me to post a new chapter really regularly. I really am trying my best, but I'm pretty busy with my studies and I don't have much time to write. I'll still update this story, as well as the Teacher one, as often as possible. 
> 
> *Work unbeta'd, sorry if there are any mistakes.

Steve hadn't meant to pull the trigger. 

When he had heard the child screaming, his heart had skipped a beat. 

He could not remember much about that peculiar night. No real clear memories, only a confused mix of emotions -mostly horror, with a hint of fear and a great deal of anger- whose details were hazy. Under the rush of adrenaline, Steve had acted on an impulse and could barely believe the consequences were now so harsh. The tall blond was not a violent person by nature and rarely got into a fight. It's not that he had wanted to kill the man, at least not properly speaking. He may have thought that the guy deserved nothing more than death, but he would never have acted on it. Except that he had. He had run towards the noises, blood already boiling at the mere idea of what was happening in that back alley. Terrified that some perverted man was taking advantage of a poor child in any kind of way. He could not have let that happen. 

He had to face an abominable scene. Even now, a month after, he still had cruel nightmares of bloodied platinum blond hair and harrowing screams that kept reminding him of the sinister event while all Steve really wanted was to forget about it. Forget those images that would forever be imprinted on his brain. His only reaction at the moment had been based on instinct, guided by his emotions. He had grabbed the man by the collar and beaten the shit out of him. At one point, they were rolling on the ground, each of them trying to take advantage, when Steve had suddenly felt the cool metal against his sides, the barrel of a gun digging above his hip. It had felt horrible. He had known at that point he had to do something or he would die right there in that little street, leaving the scared child to this dangerous, atrocious man. So he had done something, drawing his strength from the very despair. Had somehow managed to take possession of the gun in order to keep the man from shooting him, but ending up putting a bullet right in the man's chest when said man threw his body upward towards Steve in a last attempt to overpower him. 

He wasn't a killer.

He had just wanted to protect the child -and himself, clearly there had been an attempt on his life there. 

He had still killed a guy. Not that he regretted anything. That man didn't deserve to live; It had served him right.

Steve just didn't know how things could have gone so wrong.

Without any doubt, he had to face the law. It was his first time doing a crime and he had no idea how things worked at all. He only supposed they would treat him right, as he was protecting his life and also the child's one when he had murdered the man. Yeah... Treat him right. If "Not believing him and accusing him of things he hadn't committed" was treating him right. It took a month. A shitty, long month of hard work and so much talking, a month of Steve having trouble sleeping at night, spending a shit ton of money on a lawyer that was doing his best to save Steve's ass. It was exhausting and, as if it wasn't enough, the blond felt horrible every single time he thought about what had happened that night. When the day was particularly rich in emotions, he would feel sick all night long, sick and discouraged and within an inch of giving up. Things were not going in his favor and he was perfectly aware of that fact, which didn't help at all. If he were to be sentenced, maybe they could stop giving him false hopes and lying to him. There was probably no way out of this tricky situation and he was getting sick of it. Just tell him. Guilty of not, let's get this over with!

They did get finished with this.

The trial ended up with Steve being convicted of second degree murder -well, seems like since he had attacked the man first, he had compromised his chances of using self-defense as a defense during the trial- and child abuse - **WHAT?!**

Life really should stop fucking him. He had tried to save a kid; he ended up with a sentence of '25 years to life' which, okay... He was twenty-six. That sentence was actually ruining his life. Not that life sentences don't usually ruin lives, they do, but the fact that _he_ would be imprisoned as a young adult and be released as a middle-aged man was killing him. It was only then that he realised what exactly it all implied. No job, no money, no girlfriend, no house with a wife, two kids and a dog, no  _life at all_. Just him stuck behind the bars with some murderers and other criminals. Speak about a shitty mess he had gotten himself into...

 

Prison. 

Steve wasn't sure he would be able to adjust. The night they took him there, he was feeling so sick he thought he would throw up on one of the guy's shoes. It really wouldn't have been pretty. Even though he felt like trying to break free, just not to be incarcerated, he didn't dare try to make one false move. Maybe now would not be a good time to start crying either. Not that it would help him anyway and he also still had his dignity. He let them take him through all the tests and shitty stuff he went through without really thinking, his mind so far away from here, thinking about the life he had lost in an instant. He couldn't quite believe it. He couldn't go back in time and do things differently. In fact, there was nothing he could do except going to prison and living with the consequences. He followed the men without saying a word, their hands gripping his arms tightly to keep him from moving or worse, escaping. He didn't try. He was screwed.

They took him to his prison pod, showed him his cell. Well, more like dumped him there actually, then left without a word being spoken. In his prison gray T-shirt and pants, Steve stood there a little shaken, looking at the small cell, the bunk bed- if one could call it a bed- and the single immovable desk and stool. A toilet and a sink in a corner and that was it. There was already a book on the desk and when Steve stepped inside and dropped his few belongings on one of the beds, he noticed a few things that betrayed the presence of another inmate. Who wasn't there at the moment, but that Steve would surely meet before the end of the day, since it seemed like they would share this tiny room. 

With a sigh, Steve turned around and slowly walked out of the cell. The room was more spacious than he would have thought. Most of the inmates were probably outside in the yard, enjoying a bit of moonlight while they could. On a small coffee table, the blond noticed a box of cookies. Not some regular brand cookies but some really good, fancy, probably expensive ones. Still, he didn't dare touch it; he knew better than to mess with other inmates or eat their cookies. His first goal here was to keep a low profile and try not to get on anybody's bad side, after all, and that was one rule he would surely respect. Don't touch anything that doesn't belong to you. He kept his eyes up, walking by the table, when suddenly, a hand grabbed his calf without warning, making him jump slightly before, in a matter of seconds, he had both hands fisted in the man's black long sleeve shirt. That earned him a laugh, a warm sound free of aggressivity or anger. 

"Whoa man, easy..." the man breathed in a slightly husky voice through his laugh.

Steve rolled his eyes and released him with a sigh, backing off a little. It wasn't really his fault, just an old reflex. The man had taken him by surprise, he couldn't have expected anything else from him. Sprawled on the couch- which was the reason Steve hadn't seen him before he made him jump like that- was the man and, now that his laugh had faded away, he was looking at him with the hint of a smile on his lips. He looked almost playful but not so dangerous, at least not at the moment. A glimmer of curiosity in his eyes, he grabbed the ball chain he had around the neck and lifted the two silver tags hanging from it. 

"Show me yours, I'll show you mine."

Steve couldn't help but smile as he pulled out his dogtags from under his shirt. The brown haired man reached from them and cast a quick glance at the information on it- not that Steve really minded, he didn't have much to hide from those prisoners anyway... His birth date wouldn't change much actually. When he flipped them to look at the back, a symbol caught his attention at the back of one of the tags. Two silver bars. 

The man's reaction was almost immediate. His face became dead serious as he stood up in one fluid movement, raised his hand in a salute, standing there stiff as a poker. 

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Sir. Name's Sergeant James Barnes, Sir."

"Dismiss, soldier," smiled Steve, watching as the man relaxed and dropped his arm, a playful smile back on his face, "I believe there's no need for that here."

In a prison, they were not going to start that kind of thing. Although he was kind of impressed by the devotion of that man who, even though he was now a prisoner, still seemed to believe in the respect of a superior, at least when it came to the military. At first, Steve had thought he was only mocking him, but the serious look on the man's face had apparently convinced him. 

"But it really is an honor, oh Captain my Captain!" exclaimed the laughing brunette, earning himself a playful blow from Steve.

Alright. He kind of liked the guy already. He wasn't sure if it was a great idea, but he supposed it wouldn't be bad to have a friend or two here. At least, it would be better than to have enemies. Because he had nowhere else to go and nothing else to do, the blond sprawled himself on the couch beside the other man. They fell silent for a while, staring into space. Then, the man raised his head and glanced at him.

"So you're the little new guy... What have you done?"

Steve shook his head.

"Oh c'mon, Cap, don't be a pussy. You don't look like a bad guy to me, we've probably all done worse."

"Are you really gonna call me Cap?" the blond asked, brows furrowed.

"Sure. And you can call me Bucky."

There was something so simple about this man that pleased Steve in a weird kind of way, as if the guy didn't think too high of himself and just wanted to speak with him, maybe... be friends. Without replying, Steve simply looked away. Prison didn't look that bad. People didn't look that bad. Had Bucky killed someone too? Was he a thief, was he a rapist? Who knew... He had to remind himself that some of them probably had done their crime in cold blood while he had killed a man in, well, kind of self-defense and with the intention of saving a poor, innocent child. Things were different. He didn't belong here and he couldn't forget that. He and them, they were from a whole different world. 

It took him a moment to realise Bucky was handing him the box of cookies. Raising an eyebrow, Steve cast him a glance, surprised to see him show the box with a short gesture of the chin, waiting for him to take one. Still a little shocked, he picked a chocolate chips cookie and took a slow bite, never taking his eyes off Bucky. The boy was choosing a cookie for himself, not giving Steve any attention anymore. 

"Thanks" the blond muttered, only drawing a short laugh from the other man.

Well. They didn't have the same definition of 'funny' ... 

They ate their cookie in a slightly awkward silence. In fact, Steve felt awkward as hell, but Bucky didn't seem to mind at all, comfortable with the situation, not giving a shit, even. He wasn't trying to ask any more questions either, nor push Steve to tell him what he had done to end up here. He was strangely respectful, which the blond didn't except at all, coming from inmates. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe. 

He was still lost in his thoughts when Bucky suddenly raised his head and caught the attention of another man walking through the room and towards the doors leading to the yard. Raising his right hand, he called out to him:

"Hey man! Got what I wanted?"

"Sure do, babe."

Reaching in his back pocket, he threw something in Bucky's way, the man catching it and putting it away in his own pocket before Steve could figure out what it was. He glanced back to the other man as Bucky went on.

"Gonna climb up trees and throw things at people again?"

"It makes me sound like a kindergarten kid, the way you say it. I'd rather say I'm practising my skills." And he had a point there.

"Watch your ass. Remember the last time they caught you?"

"Aww are you worried about me? How sweet of you... Don't you worry, baby koala, I'll be careful."

Steve was a little lost, his eyes going from Bucky to the man then from the man to Bucky, back and forth, again and again. 

"Watch out," Bucky warned with a smile, "I might want to wrap you like a tree..."

The man winked at him.

"Well you could wrap that hand of yours around something of mine and that'd be hella fun."

"Dream on,  _Don Juan_..."

Both men smiled again, playful and affectionate, staring at each other for a few long seconds until the man started walking again, crying "Caw caw, motherfuckers" before the door closed behind him. Steve blinked once, twice, shook his head, decided that he shouldn't even try to understand what happened right there in from of his stunned eyes. Maybe Bucky could see his incomprehension, because he laughed.

"He's my best asshole- I mean, friend."

Steve looked up with an amused smile.

"Maybe I could show you around a little, tomorrow. Not much to see, but a few people to meet. You shouldn't have too much trouble here, and if you do, I have no doubt you'll be able to defend yourself."

The man gestured towards Steve, clearly pointing out his shape and obvious strength. Steve nodded slowly, even though he'd rather not have to punch anybody or impose himself by fighting. He still had the slight hope of just being Steve, the new guy that people don't care too much about, not an enemy, maybe not a friend either, but just some guy who clearly didn't need a beating. He wasn't looking for trouble and hoped the others would see it.

Bucky was stretching, clearly about to stand up. A few seconds later, the door opened and the rest of the inmates stepped inside, chatting, walking to their cells without any protest. Alright. Steve instantly got the message; it was late and everybody had to go back to their cells. He stood up and stayed beside Bucky, mostly because the man had closed his hand around his wrist and was gazing at him in a way that sent some heat in Steve's belly. That look was a mix of affection and curiosity, with probably a brief hint of desire that the man didn't manage to hide. For a short moment, Steve felt great. Maybe it was a temporary attention that would fade away in a while, maybe Bucky was attracted because he had not seen someone new in a while and Steve was the new guy, the new face here that could give him a distraction. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Still, it didn't bother Steve, as long as for the moment, it was he that was shining under Bucky's stare. The second after, he remembered himself that the guy was a criminal, and he felt a little sick at himself.

"Just stay quiet for the night and I'll see you in the morning," Bucky suddenly murmured, still intensely looking at him. That was enough to chase away the sickness.

Steve had no idea why the man was, out of a sudden, acting so protective with him. Bucky had said it himself, the blond wasn't defenseless and could take care of himself, but somehow, it pleased him to think that he had someone to watch his back. If that was really what Bucky was doing. 

"Night, Buck!" a voice called, the sergeant waving and calling back a good night.

"... Did he just give your nickname a nickname?" Steve frowned, which only made Bucky laugh.

" **Prisoners, to your cells.** "

Bucky let go of his wrist and Steve had to fight not to feel disappointed as he walked slowly back to his cell, knowing the man would probably go meet up with his cellmate and forget about him. When he reached his cell, he stood there a little confused as to if he should take the liberty of choosing a bed, or waiting for his own cellmate to tell him which bed he preffered. Soon he decided to take the top bed and stripped out of his T-shirt and pants before climbing on said bed. He could still hear the guards telling the prisoners to go to their cells as he tuck himself into bed. A moment later, someone stepped into the cell just before they locked them in and turned off the lights. Alright. Now, they really were getting started. Through the small ray of moonlight coming from the single, tiny window, Steve watched silently as the man stripped in front of him. The shirt first, revealing a pretty muscular chest. Shadows played on his body in a beautiful dance that had Steve breathless in a minute. That simple fact troubled him and he tried to chase those thoughts away, but somehow he just couldn't. The light caught on a silver chain around the man's neck, reflecting on the two tags hanging from the said chain. Before Steve could move or say anything, the man then turned around and faced him, although he showed no sign that he had seen him. He was unbuttoning his pants as Steve stared, stunned, at his left arm. Shining bright in the moonlight, silver and... metallic. Steve's breath suddenly caught in his throat when the man bent over, eyes following the curve of his back, then up towards his shoulder, captivated by the way metal met skin in a way he had never seen before. Whatever that was, it was beautiful. It was moving like a normal arm, gently and without any imperfection in the movements. Simply, truly fantastic. The blond had to fight the urge to reach for it, touch it, feel it. Would it be cold or deliciously tepid? He simply stared instead, as the man stretched slowly in front of him, muscles flexing, clearly a gorgeous sight, Steve couldn't deny it. He closed his eyes a few seconds, almost surprised at himself, swallowing back the low rumble building in his throat. When he opened them again, he jumped; light blue eyes were staring at him, ruffled brown hair, a smirk on the lips... Gosh. 

"Like what you see?"

Steve instantly turned bright red.

"I-I wasn't ... I wouldn't--" Bucky's smile was growing bigger and bigger. "I was just curious, I-I saw your arm and I ..."

He didn't like the way Bucky waggled his eyebrows. The man gave him a pat on the thigh, as if asking him to move so he could climb up beside him. Although reluctant, Steve moved to press himself against the wall as Bucky joined him and rested himself on his elbow, looking right at him.

"Are you sure this is going to support our combined weight?"

"I hope so. Anyway, what were you saying already?"

Too close. Waaay too close. A half-naked, seductive, amused Bucky wasn't exactly helping him right now. The blond, still blushing, tried not to focus on those details and instead pressed his fingertips on Bucky's left bicep. Body temperature. One mystery solved, one! The man didn't try to escape his touch; his smile had slowly faded away as he now stared into space.

"What happened?"

Steve could see the man taking a deep breath. He almost instantly regretted asking, but before he could apologize and change subject, Bucky looked up and locked eyes with him.

"I'm not proud of what I did. That doesn't excuse me and I don't quite regret doing it, it just ... It isn't a source of pride either you know. Somehow, I like to think that it had to be done. We were at war and times were rough. We had been hiding for so long, injured and starving, with no way to get out of there. Not with the health condition of our effectives. You're a soldier, you must know how hard things can get. I ...bombed them. I bombed us. With grenades. They all died; I didn't. Even today, I have no fucking idea how or why. It just happened and I was lucky I only lost my arm. Think I'd rather be dead, if you ask me. But, failing that..."

Steve had to resist the urge to touch him, to comfort him. They were inmates; that was the only thing that stopped him. He simply wasn't sure how Bucky would react and he didn't want to take the chance to screw things up. He was already glad enough he had him... Instead he shook his head, biting his lower lip. It was hard to tell if the man had acted out of pity for his mates, out of love maybe, or just because the conditions were driving him mad. The blond also knew he could probably not believe everything the people here said; it was so easy for them to lie or to tell that they're innocent... Bucky wasn't saying that, but ... details could so easily be forgotten on purpose... 

"You must think me mad."

"I just think life can make a man do a lot of things. Life can break a man into pieces. I'm not here to judge you... That'd be unkind of me. You can't be white and you can't be black. You're always both, different shades of gray, changing with the choices you make, forging who you are.  The universe could, in astonishingly short order, put you in a situation where you would, in spite of your ideals, do something bad or wrong. Such is life..."

There was a moment of silence that followed, then Bucky nodded.

"What is your darker shade, Steve?"

It was the first time he used Steve's name and it sounded way too good for Steve's liking. He was getting attached so fast it scared him.

"Well... There was that child and--"

"Whoa, whoa soldier! I know they say it's just a matter of instincts and you can't control it, but that is some  _really_ nasty shit--"

"What?! No! I didn't ... This is not what happened at all! There was that man who was abusing the child, or about to anyway... I couldn't stand it and I fought the guy. Ended up killing him with his own gun."

Bucky went silent for a moment. Clearly, at first sight, nobody would picture Steve as a murderer. He looked like that innocent kid who got himself in trouble in spite of himself... being at the wrong place at the wrong time or something like that. The fact that the blond had killed a man just like that, admittedly for a good reason, was a little shocking in itself.

"Well shit."

"You don't say."

"What'd you get?"

"25 years."

"Same here. Been here for two years now though. Seems like we're gonna spend a while together as cellmates, might as keep getting along or things will get nasty."

Steve smiled and nodded. He didn't plan on screwing things up with Bucky, at least not now, as the man looked like quite a nice guy after all. Sure, he had done some crappy things and that could not be forgotten, still the blond found that he didn't mind that much. He kind of liked him, already. For a while, they simply lay down side by side on Steve's bed, not even talking, just resting in a peaceful silence. Then, Bucky slowly straightened himself and gave him a look before climbing of the bed. He settled himself on his own bed and the blond heard him shift a little before he finally found a comfortable position. Only then, he cleared his throat and murmured:

"Night, Steve."

The blond smiled to himself in the dark.

"Night, Bucky..."

 


End file.
